He was once Ya'akov
by JPalmerGirl
Summary: Larten Crespley had another assistant before Darren. A young jewish boy from Auschwitz who'd been blooded at the camp. But the boy is now grown and created a life for himself among humans. But when his new life is disrupted by the finding of a familiar flyer. His lies come to light and he is forced to be the fourth hunter in the War of the Scars.
1. Chapter 1

"Mama!"

Little Ya'akov Yitzchak cried out loudly as he clenched his eyes tightly, tears pooling in the corners and threatening to spill down his cheeks. Aiming to carve, clean little paths in the dirt covering his face. The Nazi who held his arm steady, merely growled at the child's antics as he dug the brand roughly into the skin of the child's forearm. 8...a screech that ripped from the child's throat...2...another choking shriek, tears dripping from his eyes...7...a wail pierced the air, the child's voice slightly hoarse as the number was gouged into his skin,...6...a low moan slipped between the child's lips, his mind was a milky haze of pain...2...Ya'akov let out a small choking sob, the Nazi barely heard it...9...finally as the last number was carved, the young jewish child went limp and slipped into the grey dirt beneath his feet.

Two other Nazis surge forwards and heave the limp boy to his feet. All the Nazis are a blur of blond hair and blue eyes, they all look the same to Ya'akov as he blinked up at them hazily. He can't remember how old he is...not surely anyway...he remembers being three, when he was first taken here, to Auschwitz. He could be seven...he could be nine...he didn't really remember anymore. His days were a haze, growing clearer somedays...growing more hazy the next.

She was beautiful and she knew that Ya'akov wouldn't be missed, he was a mere child, a Jew. He couldn't do enough work like the others and the rest of the prisoners. So she chose him, led him away in the dead of night, she bit his fingers and her own before pressing them together. It felt like pure liquid fire was being poured into his veins, Ya'akov remembered his screams, rough and strained as they ripped from his engorged and raw throat. After she was done blooding him, she left him there to lick his own fingers and stare up at the night sky. As soon as he could, he staggered to his feet and ran as hard and as fast as he could.

That was where he met a man with orange hair and a stern set to his mouth. Larten Crespley helped the half-starved child to his feet and in his eyes he saw the child he had once been, a child in that same position, shoving spiderwebs into his mouth to use as food. This boy was just like he had been.

"What is your name, child?"

The child had merely looked up with hollowed eyes at Larten's question, the child had the eyes of a corpse and for a moment, he thought the boy was too far gone. But after clearing his mouth a couple times, the little boy whispered.

"827629."

Larten raised an eyebrow at the list of numbers. Was a list of numbers considered a name now? Why did the little boy have a list of numbers for a name?

"Where are you from?"

"Auschwitz."

Then it all made sense, the boy was a jewish prisoner from Auschwitz. Larten was surprised that he hadn't noticed earlier, the way the little boy's shaking hand would linger on the inside of his wrist. Where his number must have been.

"Do you have another name?"

"...Mama used to call me Ya'akov Yitzchak..."

Larten nodded at the name and he motioned for the little child to follow him. The child who looked at him with confusion and a whispered question. But Larten was quick to reassure him, the boy was smarter than he seemed at first glance.

"Where are you taking me?"

"Somewhere safe."

-TimeSkip-

Jimmy Palmer stared at himself in the mirror, taking in the curly brown locks that used to mark him as a Jew, along with the number on his wrist that used to be his name. That's what they did to you in Auschwitz, they took away everything that made you, you. They gave you an identity that was a number and a yellow star, and paraded you around in shame. Until your body was beaten and broken and burned, until your ashes fell down like rain.

As was the nature of Auschwitz, of any camp. He lightly fingered the numbers, he always expected the skin to feel raised, wrong and distorted, but the pale skin was milky smooth and otherwise flawless, the faded and carved in ink as much a part of his wrist now as a freckle or birth mark would be.

There's no equivalent of the trauma it left behind, the grizzly wounds it represented. It was ugly, pure and simple. Jimmy couldn't help smiling slightly as he remembered how he grew up in the Cirque with his mentor Larten Crespley, he'd been in an act with the older vampire for his first few years in the Cirque but he'd soon gotten used to being a freak and he got an act of his own. As a trapeze artist.

He'd been the Cirque du freak's first trapeze artist. His best friend Cormac Limbs was the only performer his age in the Cirque, even though Jimmy was slightly older. In fact, Cormac was the one who first shortened his 'Ya'akov' into Jacob, James and finally Jimmy.

Cormac was also the one who comforted a distressed Jimmy when Truska offered the newly recruited vampire, a shower. Cormac had already realized about Jimmy's past, so he was the one who informed the others. They avoided the subjects of showers, gas chambers, Germans, and yellow stars, afterwards. Jimmy finished looking at himself in the mirror and lathered himself with sunscreen before heading out.

-TimeSkip-

Jimmy bent down and studied the body that he was tasked to lift on the gurney and to insert him into the coroner van. Ducky was chatting with Gibbs about the death of the corpse, but Jimmy was still studying him carefully. He felt as though there was something wrong with the bald twenty year old marine. His neck was twisted oddly, clearing showing the fact that his neck had been snapped like a twig with a strong hand. But it seemed as there was something white coming out of his mouth.

With a white gloved hand, Jimmy reached forwards and tugged on the foreign white object that seemed to be sticking oddly out. But Jimmy couldn't say that he was surprised when the object turned out to be a crumpled piece of paper. It was when he unfolded the paper, that Jimmy gasped hoarsely, the flyer dropping from his hands like it was a hot coal. Jimmy flinched away, covering his eyes with a pair of pale shaking hands as the flyer slowly fluttered down, onto the corpse.

Jimmy heard it as a few members of the Team rushed over to grab the dropped flyer. Though to Jimmy's relief, nobody touched him. But by the rate that he was shaking and quivering frantically, he didn't want anyone to touch him. He didn't understand what he was feeling...if it was fear...excitement...horror...shame. He wasn't sure, but when he heard McGee's tentative voice whispering the title of the flyer, Jimmy felt the pain wash over him.

"What's the Cirque du freak?"


	2. Chapter 2

That's how Jimmy Palmer found himself with a stricken look on his face as he followed the rest of Team Gibbs into the darkened run down townhouse that was housing the cirque. They sat down in the foldable chairs that had been set up around the theater, and the show began to the sound of Mr. Tall rhythmic voice. He could clearly tell that the rest of the Team seemed to be captivated by the gigantic man but Jimmy decided instead to look around the building, observing the fact that the Mr. Tiny's Little People were nowhere to be found. That was extremely odd.

But Jimmy was pulled back into the show when Alexander Ribs came onto the Stage, Jimmy couldn't help but smile when he saw the little boy who he'd watched help around the Cirque when he himself was a performer. The child was too young to have an act the last time Jimmy had seen him, though sometimes the child would hang around the trapeze as Jimmy and the others practiced, watching them fly through the air as if they had wings.

Alexander never said anything to them, he would merely sit and watch them. Jimmy grew to enjoy the younger child's company, it was nice when Cormac was away and working on his own act. Jimmy laughed also hysterically as he saw Alexander as he began to drum on those protruding ribs of his. The sounds that came out of that young man's mouth as astounding.

Then came Hans Hands, he also remembered meeting that young boy in his days at the Cirque. He remembered racing the boy in his off days, the child had been amazing on those hands, faster than on Jimmy's feet and he'd been a full vampire...without flitting though. He hadn't known how to flit correctly at that age. He'd been excited to watch the random people Hans' chose to race, but when the man's finger stilled on Jimmy, a smile spread over his lips. Now was the time to see if little Hans remembered him. The smile grew even larger as Hans promised a gold bar to anyone who could beat him.

"You have to go up Autopsy Gremlin."

Tony stage whispered, elbowing Jimmy roughly in the ribs as he did so. Jimmy pushed his wire framed glasses up his nose and calmly proceeded to walk down the aisle and up to the stage. The other three chosen men had already gotten up on the stage and were looking at Jimmy with something akin to annoyance and contempt. So Jimmy hurried up there. Hans looked at all of them briefly before starting the race. Jimmy found himself, instead of crashing the face like he should've. Instead, without thinking, he flitted corrected and smiled at Hans when he beat him.

"Remember me now, Hans?"

The young freak gaped at Jimmy in surprise, but nothing in his face gave any hint that the young man remembered him in the slightest. Finally in a suave move, Jimmy let his sleeve slip upwards and drew Hans' eyes to it. The loopy branded numbers...827629 flashed in the dim lighting. This all happened in a span of mere seconds. Just as Hans' eyes widened comically and he whispered under his breath.

"Jimmy?"

Just as Jimmy opened his mouth to speak, he felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up. Then he stiffened as Mr. Tall rested a gigantic hand on his shoulder and his rhythmic voice sounded close and above Jimmy's left ear.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, meet one of our former performers Ya'akov Yitzchak."

Jimmy flashed the crowd his performance smile and bowed slightly. Then his heart sank as he saw the Team's shocked faces in the crowd. He'd forgotten that he wasn't alone. Especially when he saw some of that shock turn to betrayal. His heart clenched painfully and he let out a soft moan, yet his smile stayed in place even as he followed Mr. Tall off the stage.

-TimeSkip-

"So you don't know where he is?"

Jimmy whispered as he looked at Mr. Tall sitting across from him inside his tent. The tall man was concentrating hard as he tried to pin point the exact location of Jimmy's old mentor, Larten Crespley. Finally the tall man sighed, rubbing at his right temple as his shoulders seemed to hunch forwards in exhaustion. For once, the gigantic man seemed almost human to Jimmy. It caused his warm brown eyes to half-widen in shock.

"Larten is south of here. As for an exact location I'm afraid I have nothing to give. But I worry for him, the last time he was here he was telling me about something called the War of the Scars."

A cold hand clutched at Jimmy's heart when he heard the uttered name...War of the Scars. Even without being in contact with Vampire Mountain in several decades, he could guess what the war was most likely about. Jimmy's eyes flicked down to the short scars on the tips of his fingertips. Most likely the namesake of the new war...between the vampaneze and the vampires. It sickened him and Jimmy dry heaved and gagged over the side of his chair. He found a warm hand on his back as his body tried to rebel against its master.

"JIMMY! Is it true? Is he back!?"

The opening of Mr. Tall's tent billowed open and an older Cormac Limbs bolted inside. The grown man's sandy blond locks tumbled over his face just as they had when they were younger. His green eyes were bright and gleaming, his cheeks still covered in freckles. But that was where the similarities ended, this man was tall, much taller that Jimmy and brawny as well. Not like the thin little wisp of a kid that Jimmy once knew. This man could pass for his father, a far cry from the younger best friend he had once had. But when Cormac looked at Jimmy, his eyes brightened even further and he surged forwards to wrap his arms around Jimmy, lifting him off his feet.

"Jimmy!"

Cormac bellowed as he buried his face in Jimmy's collarbone, pressing the young man close to his body as gently as he could. Jimmy fisted his hands in Cormac's shirt and pressed Cormac closer. He breathed in deeply and his nose stung slightly on the inside from his aftershave.

"I missed you."

-TimeSkip-

"What are you, Palmer?"

Gibbs whispered softly as he looked at Jimmy's hunched over form. Tony, McGee and Ziva were standing beside Gibbs while Dr. Mallard looked at Jimmy in betrayal and concern. Jimmy opened his mouth to say something, but then closed with with a muffled clap. He had no idea what to say to the Team he had lied to, to the Team he considered to be part of his family.

"I can't tell you. I'm so sorry."

Jimmy whimpered, he couldn't tell them what he was. It could endanger them. What if the vampaneze came for them to try to get to Jimmy? He would never forgive himself if they got hurt because of him. Because of what he was. Gibbs and the rest of the Team looked at Jimmy with something akin to shock and betrayal.

"What can you tell us?"

"I'm a freak. I used to preform in this show...and I have to leave to finish some business. But I swear that I'll return."


End file.
